Molly Brown's Orchard Home

by Nell Speed

  CHAPTER XVII.

  THE GHOST IN THE CHAPEL.

  Philippe told his mother of the outcome of his proposal to Molly andwhen he repeated her remark about her and her Jean, the good lady shedtears of remorse that she had encouraged Philippe to want to marry agirl that she well knew her son did not really and truly love. Molly'sanswer made her realize even more than before the fine, true heart ofher little Kentucky cousin, and her regret was very great that Molly wasnot to become the bride of her son.

  "Ah, my boy, how stupid we have been! Here you and I have gone serenelyon all winter, confident that either one of these lovely girls, Judy orMolly, was ready to drop like a ripe plum if you but touched the tree.We never once thought of the damage we might do one of the girls.Suppose you had engaged the affections of both of them, while you weredeciding which one you wanted the more? Thank goodness, there are nohearts broken, not even yours. Tell me, dear: will you try for Judynow?"

  "As our American friends say: 'Not on your life,'" laughed Philippe."Molly has taught me a lesson. I am not in love with Miss Julia Keaneven as much as with my cousin, and with the example of happiness everbefore my eyes that you and my father present, I shall be very carefuland pick out for my wife one whom I truly love and who, I hope, trulyloves me. I can't quite see how I escaped falling deeply in love withCousin Molly. She is so sweet and so everything that I admire. Do youknow, _ma mere_, I have an idea that the Providence that looks afterchildren and fools has protected me from a calamity which falling inlove with Molly would have been? I have a feeling that my little cousinis already in love with someone else, and that there never has been achance for me."

  "Well, what a wise young man a refusal has made of you!" teased hismother. "Two or three more experiences of the sort will make a realsavant of you. What makes you have this feeling, this pricking in yourthumbs?"

  "Something about the way she spoke of love. Her eyes are certainly themirrors of her soul, and there was a look in them that made me feel sheknew what she was talking about."

  "Well, we never can tell. I am glad my thoughtlessness and stupidityhave not done any damage," said the marchioness, looking fondly at herhandsome son and thinking in her heart that both girls must be eitherblind or already very much in love not to be crazy about her Adonis.

  That night, the soft white clouds that had been the despair of Judy andPierce all day as they had vainly tried to put them on canvas, cametogether and managed to make a very large black cloud which finallyfilled the whole heavens; and a fierce thunder storm ensued.

  Molly and Judy lay awake talking. Judy had the hardihood to accuse Mollyof having turned down a chance to become the future Marquise d'Ochte.

  "How on earth do you know, Judy? I would never think of telling such athing even to you, my very best friend. It seems a very unfair advantageto take of a man, to let people know he has been refused. But you arethe greatest guesser in the world."

  "It didn't take much guessing to come to this conclusion. Who's a molenow, you old bat? I have known for some time that the handsome Philippehas had us both under consideration and it was a toss up which one wouldbe honored. I was betting on you but hoping I would draw the prize,"laughed Judy.

  "Oh, Judy!" exclaimed Molly, shocked a little and wondering if, afterall, Judy was just flirting with her brother Kent.

  "Oh, I didn't want to accept him, but I just wanted to jar him a little!I like him very much and am crazy about his mother and father, but hiscomplacency in regard to you and me has rather--rather--well, 'got mygoat.' I don't know how else to put it. It has never entered hisaristocratic French mind that we would think of refusing him. He isn'texactly conceited, in fact, I don't think he is at all conceited; butthings have come his way too much all his life.

  "But my, wouldn't it be great to be mistress of this wonderful place?The chateau is simply perfect and the country around just screaming tobe painted. Pierce and I found so many motifs this morning that I know Icould live here a hundred years and not paint half of them. I am afraidif Philippe had chosen 'Apple Blossom Time in Normandy' to make love tome; and had first taken me on a high hill and shown me all of hiswonderful estates, that I should have been tempted to make a _marriagede convenance_, in spite of my desire to jar your handsome cousin.Pierce and I were on the opposite hill trying to paint some cloudeffects when Philippe broke off a spray of apple blossoms and gave it toyou. I couldn't help seeing what ensued; but I got in front of Pierce,so he missed the tableau; and he was so taken up with the clouds that hedid not know he was missing anything."

  Molly was thankful for the darkness that hid her hot face. But the stormwas becoming so severe that Judy dropped the subject and got up to lookout of the window for more cloud effects.

  "Oh, Judy, I forgot to tell you that Philippe told me the ghost storyconnected with the old chateau! Come on back to bed and I'll tell it toyou," said Molly.

  Judy accordingly abandoned the study of the storm clouds and eagerlydrank in every word Molly had to tell her of the beautiful Elizabeth andthe terrible night of Saint Bartholomew.

  "Oh, Molly, delicious thrills are running up and down my backbone? Andyou say Philippe has never been to the chapel on a stormy night to testthe truth of the story? Lived here all his life and never had theget-up-and-get to go find out? That is the keynote of his character. Helacks imagination, and that is one big reason both of us have had fornot succumbing to his charms. There is no telling what havoc he mighthave played with our hearts if he had had more imagination."

  Then both girls lay still listening to the storm, each one thinking ofanother good reason she had for not falling in love with poor Philippe,even if he had been gifted with the imagination of a Byron.

  "Oh, what a clap of thunder!" Judy clutched Molly and held her close. "Ihave always been more afraid of thunder than lightning. Molly, I wonderif Elizabeth's footprints wouldn't be visible on such a night? Let's gosee. I can't sleep for thinking of her. We can easily get there withoutbeing seen or heard."

  Wrapped in their kimonos and armed with Judy's electric searchlight anda big pitcher of water, as Philippe had said the floor must be wet tobring out the footprints, the girls made their way to the hauntedchapel. They groped along narrow passages connecting the new chateauwith the old. There was an entrance to the chapel through the oldchateau made since the fatal night of Saint Bartholomew, but the girlswere not aware of it. They opened a narrow door on the court and ranthrough the pouring rain to the great door of the chapel. It was notlocked but very heavy and it took their combined strength to push itopen. The few moments that it took to accomplish this were enough forthem to become wet to the skin.

  How dark and grewsome the chapel was! The storm was raging. Looking upthrough the cracks in the little steeple, they could see flash afterflash of continuous white lightning. They might have spared themselvesthe trouble of bringing the pitcher of water as the floor was alreadyvery wet from the leaks in the steeple. Molly clutched Judy, trying tokeep from screaming, as something brushed her cheek.

  "Something touched me! There it is again!" But the searchlight proved itto be nothing more than a great thick rope hanging from the steeple.

  "Could it be the one the Jesuit came down?" gasped Judy.

  "Hardly," whispered Molly. "Ropes don't last four hundred years. It mustbe the bell rope."

  "Of course," exclaimed Judy, reassured. "What a stupid I am! But comeon, we must examine the floor. Let's see: she started at the altar whereshe had concealed the boy, and then ran towards the door. The footprintsshould be along here where we are standing. Not enough wetness here."Judy turned over the pitcher and Molly had to jump to keep her feet outof the water. The girls stooped and began examining every inch of theflagging.

  "Judy, Judy, look!" cried Molly. "This is a footprint. It stays drywhile all the floor is wet. Look, the little toes and then a space forthe high arch and then the slender little heel! Here is another andanother."

  Tense with excitement the girls stood up and faced each other. There
wasan extra loud crash of thunder and a vivid flash of lightning. Thereemerged from behind the altar a tall figure in a priest's black cowl,carrying a lantern.

  If there had been any peasants in the field passing the old steeple onthis night of terrible storm, they would have been able to bear witnessto the truth of the ghost story of the beautiful Elizabeth. There wascertainly a shriek of "God help me! God help me!" but it came from theover-wrought Judy. Molly reasoned quickly that ghosts of Jesuits wouldnot carry kerosene lanterns; and, besides, that ghosts do not as a ruleappear to two persons at the same time.

  The man put down his lantern on the altar and threw back his hood,disclosing the features of Philippe. His lantern had little effect onthe blackness of the chapel and Molly had turned off their searchlightat sight of the apparition. Philippe peered into the darkness and spokewith a slight agitation:

  "Is some one in the chapel? I thought I heard a scream, but the thunderwas so loud I am not sure."

  Judy sat down in the puddle made by the overturned pitcher and gave adry sob, while Molly turned on the searchlight and called out:

  "Nobody but two penitents, Brother Philippe."

  "Well, you gave me quite a turn! I thought you were at least the poormurdered Elizabeth," and Philippe strode forward and assisted thetrembling Judy to her feet. "I couldn't sleep and I thought I would comeand test the truth of the old tale about the footprints. I felt somehowthat I had lacked in imagination never to have done it before. Certainlyyou girls have no lack of it."

  "I wish I did lack a little of the abundance I possess," shuddered Judy."I was as certain a moment ago that you were the murderous Jesuit as Iam now that you are Philippe d'Ochte. But tell me: how did you getbehind the altar without our seeing you; and where did you get thatcloak? It is about the most picturesque thing I ever saw."

  "There is an entrance to the old chateau from behind the altar; and asfor my cloak it is an ordinary _gens d'arme_ cape. It does look rathermonkish. If you admire it, I will present it to you. It will make goodstudio property."

  The young people had to examine the footprints more carefully, and ofcourse Philippe discovered that they were really raised places in therock, and for that reason showed when the floor was wet.

  He conducted the girls back to the main building through the narrowcorridor that had entrance to the chapel through a small door behind thealtar.

  "If you only had known of this way, you would have been spared awetting. Both of you are drenched. There is a fire in the library. Ifyou will come there you can dry off. I am so afraid you will catchcold," said Philippe. "I think you girls are a spunky pair. I have neverknown a French girl who would have dared to go on the adventure you haveto-night."

  "Well, I fancy we would not have dared to go had we really believed inghosts. As for drying ourselves by the library fire I think we had muchbetter go off to bed. We might rouse the household. Cousin Sally is notto know of our escapade, as you say she has a dread of this old storygetting started up again," said Molly.

  The two bade their young host good-night and crept quietly to theirroom.

  "My, don't dry clothes and warm covers feel good!" exclaimed Judy,snuggling down in the lavender-scented linen sheets. "Molly, I was nevermore frightened in my life than when that figure appeared behind thealtar! My not really believing in ghosts did not help me one bit. Didyou ever see anything in the way of a mere man quite so excruciatinglyhandsome as Philippe when he threw back his cowl and stood bareheadedpeering into the darkness?"

  "Oh, Judy, what a girl you are! How could you take note of all that whenyou were in a little heap on the floor sobbing out your soul?"

  "I peeped through my fingers. People don't sob with their eyes. What apicture he would make!" and Judy began to draw in the air. "Golden hairand beard, with the black peaked hood half off and that expression oflooking into the future that he had when he spoke to ask who was there!'The Young Prophet,' must be the title. He seems to have a latentimagination, after all. I believe I have done him an injustice. An awfulpity one of us can't marry him! Somehow we ought to keep him in thefamily. I bet you I know why your Cousin Sally hates to have the ghosttalked about! I just know she has made a trip to the chapel in a spiritof adventure and got good and scared."

  But Molly was breathing so quietly that Judy realized she was talking tothe air, making no more impression than her imaginary brush had madewhen she painted the wonderful picture of "The Young Prophet."